


Roxy Lalonde Does Not Need Another Relationship (Especially Not With John)

by Miriage



Series: In Which Dave has Abs, Karkat has a Nice Ass, Jake Wears a Binder, Dirk Has to Socialize, and John Wields the Power of Balloons [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, But she's been through a lot, Cute John Egbert, Drama & Romance, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Humanstuck, Humor, Mentions of Different Forms of Media, Mutual Pining, Pining, Roxy Is a Good Bro, Roxy is a Game Dev, Slow Romance, XC Runner John Egbert, like movies and video games and books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 17:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15442374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miriage/pseuds/Miriage
Summary: "Your name is Roxy Lalonde and it is totally, totally, totally not fair (unfair?) that your best friend’s/ex-boyfriend’s/ex-girlfriend’s younger brother got so fucking hot.It. Is. Totally. Not. Fair."





	Roxy Lalonde Does Not Need Another Relationship (Especially Not With John)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to the series! TBH I like Roxygen. I like Roxy with anyone! She's so fun! And cool! And I like her and John. I feel like this addition will not be as read as the other stories in this series, but i don't care. I'm the author and I say ROXYGEN! I do what I like so HA! (finger guns and winks around)
> 
> (Meanwhile, the series continues to deviate from its title.)

Your name is Roxy Lalonde and it is totally, totally, _totally_ not fair (unfair?) that your best friend’s/ex-boyfriend’s/ex-girlfriend’s younger brother got so fucking **_hot._**

 

It. Is. Totally. Not. Fair.

 

Or is it unfair? You don’t know. You want to emphasize that you are seriously mad that it happened but “unfair” seemed like such a weak word. Maybe non-fair would be a better word? Nah, not that. “Non-fair” sounded like you were celebrating a summer fair that wasn’t _actually_ a summer fair. Like an un-birthday. An un-birthday…. Wow!

You would love to have an un-birthday party! With presents and a cake and a million balloons! Cat shaped balloons! Cat shaped cake! Cat shaped presents for your future cat! Man, what would you give for a cat shaped present. Like a cat shaped laptop! You could totally get a cat shaped laptop! John had that weird humanoid shaped laptop so-

 

Wait, shit…. You’re back on John again! Fuck!

 

* * *

Okay, maybe for the readers (who are still hella fucking confused as to _why_ Dave and Karkat are still not here) and for the celestial bodies of frogs that laid up in the sky (which you know are up there _shut up Dirk you saw it in a dream and your dreams are always true_ ) that are wondering why you are suddenly showing up. Well…. here’s the short version.

John Egbert got hot and you don’t know what to do about it.

 

* * *

 John Egbert…. John Egbert…. John _Fuck-Why-Him?!_ Egbert

 

You were there when his voice dropped. You were there to smash cake into his face when he graduated middle school. You saw his peen once.

 

So why the fuck are you falling for him now!?

 

* * *

The thing is, dating John or even telling John that you like him in a _liking_ way, is a horrible way to ruin everything you have with him. You’re already on thin ice with him thanks to the “relationship” you have with his family.

Or should you say “past relationships” (with a capital ending “S”).

You went out with Jake for some super-secret two months that not even Rose knew about (Shhhh! Don’t tell her!) before you both decided that it was the worst idea that had ever pissed and water-dripped into both your brains. Still didn’t help the break up tears in the end but at least you acknowledged that the relationship was wrong. On the subject, why did your first kiss have to be with Jake? Of all people! Sure, he kissed like a fucking God and you loved every second of it (Damn! Those chompers made a meal out of your sweet virgin lips!) but that didn’t mean you liked _liked_ it. Not to mention that the second you stopped locking lips, you knew that Jake wasn’t the "perfect prince charming" that your overactive imagination wanted him to be for you.

Fortunately, the issue of Jake and “dating” has been ceremoniously torch-passed down to Dirk, who quite frankly needed a man like Jake to turn the world into a “tizzy” for him. Jake is perfect at making tizzies of everything! Truly the perfect dude for your actual bro!

That is… if Dirk would finally get over his self-hating fucking ass and admit that he saw Jake as the perfect match for him. Seriously for a guy who tooted his own unbelievably competent abilities, Dirk sure is a slob when it came to confessing the little human flying objects called “emotions.” Luckily, your sources (Dave) has told you that someone is giving (screaming) truthful advice into his (Dirk’s) earholes. That person being Dave’s new boo. Who is sooooo cute! And such a good match for Davey-wavey! You can’t wait until they go out and have babies! Or adopt babies. Unless someone got M-Preg. Which you kinda do hope and don’t hope will happen.

 

You hope it’s Dave. M-Pregnant Dave. No matter what, you’re going to be a beautiful aunt.

 

That is…. if Dave will just fess up and _date_ the fucking beautiful boy. The beautiful cute boy. The beautiful cute boy senpai wonder machine. Dave talks about him a lot and you’ve seen pictures of his junior cross-country runner bae _Karkat._ You’ve never met him but you already like him. He has the word “cat” in his name! Of course you like him!

You haven’t told Dave yet but you actually have his (cute senpai boy Karkat’s) number, which you got from multiple sources. Namely from two sources that wrote in yellow and violet. After all, it wasn’t stalking if someone gave you the number after you asked “Hey, I need love advice. Know anyone?”

 

* * *

You went out with Jane after Jake.

 

Jane was a more…. lasting relationship. A lasting and a loving relationship.

 

Damn, Jane is a bombshell who is always ticking away, seconds from exploding. She has so much going on in her brain and you could never tell what she would do next. Dating Janey was thrilling because she was (and still it) capable of doing anything that she sets her mind to! She is as cheerful and full of spirit as you are… pink! And that’s saying something!

Janey…. Marvelous, marvelous Janey…. She smudged your cheek with lipstick more times than you could wink. You spent many a night giggling with her arms wrapped around your neck.

She was the first person you said “I love you” to.

 

You really thought that relationship would last.

 

* * *

She and you went out for one year, five months, ten days, three hours, and four minutes. And you wouldn’t trade any second of it for the world.

But like all good things, it wasn’t great. And you knew it wasn’t great.

Jane…. She deserved someone “great.” Someone with green eyes and a big red bow on her head. Wrapped up like a present for her perfect heart.

So…. Your relationship with Jane ended on as good as terms as you could muster. Didn’t stop you from crying though.

 

You cried more than you will ever tell her that you did.

 

* * *

Now that you think about it, John has every right and reason to hate you to the ends of the universe and back. Not to mention he has every right and reason in his body and soul not to go out with you. You are an awful person who only brought break ups to his family.

 

But damn…. He’s just so…. great. Not passable, not good, John is _great._

 

He is so great.

 

He’s everything you didn’t know that could be great. He’s greatness plopped into a body that you don’t deserve.

 

* * *

 

John comforted you every time you broke up with a member of his family.

Oof, that came out wrong and not great. Really not great. But it was true. He did comfort you. He made you feel happy. He let you hack his games and didn’t even complain. He gave you ice cream and held your hair back while you ate after you broke up with Jake. He baked you a cake after you broke up with Jane and wiped tears from your face when you burst into them after looking at the it. He was so apologetic and said sorry a million times for reminding you of his sister. No malice was in his caring expression as he tossed his hours long dedication of a confectionary into the trash for your sake. He braided your hair after that and he shared jokes with you till you laughed all your tears all away.

He was…...is still….so sweet.

He’s kind. He looks out for you. And you can’t help but feel like you’ve been doing…. wrong this whole time.

 

* * *

So maybe this whole “liking John” began a long time ago. Began when you…. weren’t even expecting it. Came when your broken heart was being patiently stitched up with stitches made of blue. Maybe John’s “getting hot” just meant that you were seeing the part of him that you never acknowledged before.

Yes. You like him. You really like him. You want to play video games, hold hands, and …. even kiss him. But….

You’ve liked what felt like too many people. Or maybe you gave too much of your heart away before you knew what was going on. In each of your relationships you acted stupid and way too excited. You forced yourself into hearts with jokes and a simple smile. You created a world of just them and yourself. An unhealthy creation that lead to you being stuck in a dark, _dark_ void.

 

* * *

 

Not just past-romances were blocking you from John though. Other factors were also big, impassable walls in your potential “relationship.” The factor of college because you needed that education to help you later in life.

And your job. Your job is a big one. It’s a job which you created for yourself and you’ve never felt prouder of.

Somewhere in the world, a girl is being picked on for liking video games. Or she is getting hit on by an older, creepy, misogynistic man for walking into a GameStop to buy a game. Or she is getting denied a job because the company she applied for didn’t believe that girls had the “hormonal balance” to hold down a coding job that required hours and hours of working.

 

You weren’t that girl. And you were going to show other girls that they didn’t need to take that shit lying down and ass up.

 

Your job involves the correct way of creating. Involves the true aspect of creation. And guess what? Your creation, a beautiful video game running on pure bitch-tits of awesomeness, is rocking the shit out of everyone who’s beta-d it.

Even Sollux liked it. And that’s saying something because that guy hates everything. He even hates K-pop.

(Yeah, that’s how low he is. You’ve never met a Korean who hates K-pop. Are you being racist? Maybe a little. But in this day and age everyone likes K-Pop.)

You don’t have time for something stupid like romancing pretty girls and pretty boys. You don’t have time, plus you don’t need it. You are not about to get with the brother of the family that you caused so much pain to in your dumbass youth.

 

Not to mention, you don’t want another heartbreak. You really don’t.

 

* * *

 

Adding on to the mountain of “no’s” when it came to John, you were older than him. By a lot. By a whole four years.

Yes, you are aware that being four years older isn’t that big of a deal to some people. But that is usually because the people who do the four-year tango are the appropriate ages of twenties and thirties. John is in fucking _high school_ which legally means he’s a _minor._ And you, being in college, means you are so fucking _older_ than him _._

Sure, John would be in college sooner than Davey-wavey (because DAMN no one told you John is smart as fucking hell), but that didn’t change the obvious fact that you are twenty and he’s sixteen going on seventeen. He’s the age of that girl who screamed in the rain after she got smooched by that blonde guy in _The Sound of Music_ (which is a good movie _shut up Dirk_ no one’s like you and you’re the worst when it came to liking movies) and it is creepy as hell for you to go crushing on someone way younger than you. When guys creep on younger girls that’s called pedophilia. When girls creep on younger guys, that’s COUGAR-pedophilia. It’s somehow worse.

 

You don’t need that label being hung over you like a used condom.

 

You are also taller than John by an inch and a half. Which technically isn’t much and knowing the teenage body, John is going to grow to be taller than you in about a month. But still! At this very moment you are looking down at John! It’s wrong! It’s all wrong!

Not to mention that John’s child brain is still in its final stages of a long development process. He’s still growing up. He’s still finding himself. If you interfere now, you pretty much ruined him for the rest of his long, beautiful life.

Not to also, also, _also_ mention that you didn’t know anything about John’s…. sexuality. What if he didn’t swing your way? You know you’re bisexual as hell but you don’t know what John is. Who knows what John could be? He could be guys only like Dirk.

Hell, he could be in love with Dirk and be dreaming about Dirk’s flat ass as your speaking! You’ve seen the looks he gave Dirk when he thought he wasn’t being noticed! John was practically undressed him with his eyes! You. Definitely. Saw. It. Happen.

 

Oh, the pains of a bisexual woman.

 

* * *

 

So yeah, John is a big “N” to the “O”. He’s a boy that you won’t ever get with. You accept this with all your twenty-year old heart and soul.

 

(Because you have to.)

 

* * *

You have a pretty fucking rad pad. The sweetest of the lady pads. The pad is so plush and comfortable and you love laying around it in your underwear as your three monitors blast at full power. You obviously are talking about your apartment. Or technically, your room in your apartment. Since Dirk has been called out of the house and is currently trying to stick a dick in an English/studying on campus, you took over the “looking after Dave” situation and are now (surprise surprise) looking after Dave. And Rose. Dave suddenly went from no girls in the house to girls all the time. Go figure.

 

Still your part of the casa is the best part of the casa.

 

One monitor is all you need to program your sweet game (the second you upload it to _Steam_ you were going to _cum_ the boonbucks) the other two are for homework, hacks, socializing, and other acts of dickery. Speaking of dickery, Dirk is currently pestering you on one computer screen about how Karkat Vantas just punched him in the nuts. Something that had to do with Dirk not seeing himself as a wonderful, capable person of awesome sauce _._ That fucking asshole. And yes, you are still talking about Dirk. Dirk is the asshole dirty butt and you don’t care who knows. For someone who knew everything, he sure had a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that just because Jake didn’t say it out loud, Jake definitely _definitely_ like-likes him back.

Seriously, why is he like this and where does he think he is? Is he at a college where one goes to study and find their future spouse of forever or at an elementary school filled with shitting kids?  Well…. Technically college is also filled with shitting kids but you digress.

For some ungodly reason, both Sollux (who you gave your chumHandle to) and Eridan (who you did not) are texting you at high speeds to complain about (surprise, surprise) each other. These annoying ass-hats. You seriously hate these two and you don’t understand why you are being dragged into their mess. A mess that is as messy as your own problems!

Your computers are blowing up with texts the colors of orange, yellow, violet, orange, yellow, violet, _orange, yellow, fucking violet. It’s like the fucking disco rainbow up in here!_

 

God you need a break.

 

Luckily break time is now in succession because you can hear the charming teenage voices of your brother and his best friend and yup, it’s time to put on pants again.

 

* * *

 

“Hey John!”

 

You can’t help but grin when John turns to see you and his face lights up like Christmas. At least, you think it lights up like Christmas.  (This isn’t right. God why are you doing this?)

He’s grinning back at you and Dave just rolls his eyes as you gesture to the bicyclist being mauled by arrows on the TV screen. You already know the game (the Game Grumps played it and you like the Game Grumps and you don’t have to be ironic about it because you aren’t like the other half of your family. This is all due to your lack of irony and your lack of a dick) but you pretend you don’t. Just so you can talk to John. Just so you could enter into the conversation like a chump.

“What’s this? Another lame game that Dave managed to rope you into?” you ask. Dave gives you a “what the fuck?” look because he knows you know what the game is. He’s a smart cookie and soon enough he’s going to pick up that your hella bisexual for his best bro.

(You are the worst sister. The worst sibling. The worst everything. Someday a giant cat will vore you and you will happily go. You always wanted to be in a cat after you watched _My Neighbor Totoro_ and saw the giant cat bus. Truly the perfect way for you to go. Into the cat and out its ass.)

“Only the lamest of games,” John answers back. His buckteeth are showing and his hair looks so soft that you want to touch it. Maybe stroke it. No, don’t do that Roxy-and-Roll, that will creep him out. And you’ve already been over why you shouldn’t be a creep!

Outside your brain, John says a cheerful, “It’s totally stupid Rox!”

 

“Sooooo, it’s great then?” you tease, still not petting his hair.

 

“Hell to the yeah!”

 

“Sweet! I’m into stupid and great! Scoot! Scoot!” you say and make John squish against Dave so you can squish against John.

 

Dave looks over John’s head to give you a “ _what the fuck?!”_ look but you ignore it. (Gawd you shouldn’t be doing this. _You shouldn’t be doing this._ You shouldn’t be willingly throwing your heart to the unknown again but fuck you can’t help it. It’s John. His smile is infectious. He smells nice. You can’t help it. You’re an idiot. A complete looney idiot.)

You stay there, leaning on John and watching the little polygon shaped humans be pelted by wheels of death and arrows. It’s hilarious to watch live in person and you’re laughing every time Dave dies and explodes.

But to be honest, you’re more concentrated on the small vibrations and shivers that go through John every time he moves. (You’re going deeper and you don’t care.)

 

* * *

Eventually, Dave has to leave to meet the bae-boo-senpai-lover (he throws you another confused “ ** _what the fuck?_** ” look again) and it’s just you and John playing the awesome shitstorm of a game. His head is in your over-aged lap and you’re busy launching a man sitting in a lawn chair high into the motherfucking sky. On one of these stages things were going to get hella trippy and you’re looking forward to watching the pixels dance like their pants are on fire. It’s a good distraction, playing a game and looking forward to the trip-show, as it drives your attention from the John in your lap. Fuck he smells nice.

Shit, don’t so something weird Roxy. Don’t. Do. Something. Weird.

 

“Is Dave going to confess his undying love to his senpai again?” you ask lazily. But not too lazily. Because you’re trying not to act desperate. Totally.

John laughs and wow, you _really_ want to look down. But you won’t. You have the nerves of steel and you can steer yourself to not looking at the young Egbert like a piece of meat.

 

“Yeah…. Hopefully it works this time,” John says.

 

You look down (you’re weak shut up) and John has his lips drawn together in a tight line. He’s thinking. Oh no. It’s never good when John thinks like that. It usually means he’s about to do or say something that hits a little too close to your heart. His sweet “heart to heart’s” made you feel both naked and exposed. And that’s a lot!

You need to say something. Save the situation before it gets worst.

 

“I’m glad that Dave’s patient though,” you say, looking back at your game. The old man in the lawn chair lights up like a firework, letting his colors of blood burst everywhere. He lands with a _plop_ back at the checkpoint. “Hell, if it was me I wouldn’t be able to tough it out this long!”

Well, if _that_ wasn’t the lie of the century you don’t know what is. Can you go climb into a puddle and drown now? A big, ocean shaped puddle? Maybe your tongue will gain sentience and swim away from your cavern shitstorm of a mouth hole.

The next glance down at John shows you that he isn’t doing anything or reacting to what you said. He’s just…. staring at the screen, watching as the old man in the lawn chair crashes into a tree thanks to your bad driving, with that _fucking_ expression of seriousness still on his face.

You bite your lip and look back at your (Dave’s) game. You tell yourself again to not be weird. Please don’t be weird outer layer of self. Be serious like inner layer self!

 

But instead (surprise, fucking surprise) you be weird.

 

* * *

Your mouth begins to tumble out words like a gale storm and you feel so much like Dave it almost grosses you out and makes you want to vomit. Turns out, you have more Strider in you than you thought. You plow on like a chainsaw through a hedge. Bye bye topiary! It’s all knives and leaves now.

The laugh you make sounds just as horrible as you hoped it wouldn’t sound. “If I was in Dave’s position, I’d just pull my boo down and kiss ‘em till they turn as blue as the sweet summer sky. The kiss will be so magical that a bombass dress will appear, like that scene in that movie with that fish girl who turned human!"

(No, you wouldn’t. Since when is bravery your middle name? You don’t even have a middle name! The closest thing you ever had to a middle name is when Jane accidentally separated “Roxanne” to “Rox” and “Anne” on a group project and everyone called you “Rox” for a month!)

John doesn’t respond, which is surprising because you know he knows that you just reference _The Little Mermaid_ without referencing _The Little Mermaid._ He doesn’t say anything. Not anything at all. Why isn’t he saying anything? Usually he would jump on the chance to burn Dave’s metaphoric dick but he’s quiet this time. You don’t get it. God this is the worst. Having serious, about to touch your heart, John is the worst.

You continue. Your eyes are glued to the screen as more words are tumbling out. “I would kiss ‘em till the world goes ‘pop!’ and then I would let ‘em have it! Express my undying love! Show them my lady balls! They’d either feel threatened or thrilled! Or both.”

 

Your character on screen explodes into bloody guts made of 1’s and 0’s and _gawd you wish that was you_.

 

“Hopefully Dave-wavey can finally do it today. Can’t wait for them to start sailing like a ship into holy waters!” you say, way happier than you actually are. You glance down at John and-

 

You find him looking at you.

 

Just…. Looking at you. Not looking at the TV screen, just at you. You’re so caught off that his face is there (looking straight at you and into your face and eyeholes), that you do something completely by accident and totally not on purpose-

You drop the controller on his head.

It smacks into his forehead and bounces off and he yelps in surprise. His head jerks up and-

 

Double forehead smack combo occurs.

 

* * *

“Fuck! I’m sorry! Roxy! Sorry!” John says, but he doesn’t say it in that order. Instead what tumbles out is “I’m Roxy! Sorry! Sorry! Fuck!”

He then proceeds to fall off the couch and onto the ground, hand against his head in the universal sign of _fucking ouch._

You’re in an equal state of forehead clutching and it takes you a second to come out of _Cloud Cooing Land_ and back to painful reality. Damn Egbert’s got a forehead! If he wasn’t a master prankster he’d be the best headbutt ninja in the land!

It takes a minute for the room to stop spinning and for the spots to stop being spots in your vision. “Tots my fault Eggy,” you say, once you push through the fog of your brain, “Joystick of magic slipped from my clutches. Looks like next-level is a no-go.” A groan emerges from your throat and you do nothing to stop it.

John props himself on his elbows, his forehead now uncovered and visibly red. “Never mind the controller,” he says, blinking away obvious tears (you saw them, you’re not lying), “How’s your head Rox?” He gives you a sweet _“tell me your secrets”_ look which, accompanied by his dewy puppy-eyes (of pain), are enough to get you all blush-y when you shouldn’t be blush-y. Your forehead hurts a lot. Ouch.

“Hurts a little but it’s not too bad. I’ll probably live unless I die,” you mutter. However, you know fully well that this fucker is gonna bruise like the underbelly of the moon. Looks like you’re going to be putting concealer on your forehead.

 

John frowns, gets on his knees, and motions for you to bend down from your oh-so-mighty squat on the couch. “Let me see?” he asks, “Just to be sure?”

 

That’s an…. Odd request. You almost screw up your face in your own “what the fuck?” expression, but you behave yourself like a properly trained Roxy. You comply with his wishes, albeit a little confused. “Doubt you’ll find anything that needs extreme icing like your runner’s foot John,” you say as you lean down. He shrugs.

“Maybe not,” he agrees, “But that doesn’t mean that icing shouldn’t be done, just in case. Please let me look?”

You nod and you let him place a couple of his piano fingers on to your forehead, stiffening when they come in contact with your skin. He brushes aside your bangs and leans in as if trying to see an invisible injury that occurred in your frontal cortex. He’s… pretty close.

 

Really close.

 

So close.

 

Closer than close.

 

This close to you…. his face is as easy to read as the first Harry Potter book. Meaning that you can see that he turns a bit…. red. It’s adorable and you stifle a chuckle at his…. redness.

Doing your best impression of a copyrighted “Dirk-Smirk”, you watch as a “little red” turns into a lot of red.

The action alone overjoys you more than it should.

 

“Well doctor?” you say, making sure your voice goes low and sounds extra sultry, “See anything that needs meds and medication? My rich blank canvas of a forehead all good for the next round? Any signs of me surviving till tomorrow? Or do I need to check myself into the Egbert Hospital of Reviving Love?”

It doesn’t take a Strider to see that his eyes stride right out of his head at that comment.

 

Oh…… shit.

 

* * *

You didn’t mean to say that last part and, judging by the new expression on John’s face, the “last part” was _way_ too much of a step over the invisible line that you two oh-so-carefully have.

 

Alright, time to abort. Time to go back to your lady pad. Time to take off your pants.

 

You move to pull back, as humiliation and embarrassment caused by your lashing tongue makes you wish that you were in that exploding video game this very second....

Only to have John stop you.

 

He stops you with his hot breath against your face that makes you want to melt like a scoop of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Saliva and anxiety drip down your throat and the smart part of your brain tells you to pull back this awkward situation (and run) when his hand, John’s hand, falls from your forehead to cup your cheek.

The motion is so smooth that you can feel your tongue wither up in confusion. Your eyes even go bug-eye at how smooth it is. How super, super smooth it is.

“Depends,” John murmurs. “Are _you_ ready to check yourself into a hospital like that?”

 

(You two are no longer talking about hospitals. That much is for sure.)

 

* * *

 

 He’s leaning in.

 

This isn’t a good sign.

 

He’s closing his eyes.

 

_This isn’t a good sign._

 

He’s hesitating, centimeters from your mouth.

 

You have to abscond. You have to leave. Tell him you’ve seen his peen to freak him out. Boys hate it when you talk about their peen right? Wait, shit! That’s not what boys hate! You think! Wait, no time for that! Right now, you need to shove him off! Get him off! Push him so he knows you do _not want it!_

But fuck! You’ve never, ever, _ever_ wanted anything so badly.

 

If there really are celestial bodies of frogs up there, you hope to each individual amphibian that they will forgive you this one time.

 

* * *

 

He kisses you.

John kisses you.

John Egbert fucking kisses you.

Kisses Roxy No-Middle-Name Lalonde.

He kisses you lightly. He kisses you like a couple kissing for the very first time. Soft (his lips are soft, does he wear lip balm?), hesitant (he’s removed the hand that was touching your cheek and he’s brushing it against you knee), and unsure (he’s quivering so much you can feel the vibrations on your skin), John’s kiss is nothing more than a press that means nothing.

 

You really want it to mean something.

 

* * *

You’re…. super frozen. Ice cold, super-duper, cold as winter feet frozen. Your lips aren’t doing anything but your heart is beating three-thousand miles per hour and you forgot how to breathe.

You’re going to die. Either by lack of oxygen or the amount of adrenaline pumping through your heart. You’re going to die and go to heaven where you’ll bump into John again. Then you’ll die. Again. In John’s angel arms.

 

Because kissing him is like going to heaven and you don’t want to leave.

 

* * *

When John pulls back, it takes you a hot second to open your eyes. You didn’t even know that you closed your eyes. But you did and now is the time to open them, even though you don’t want to. Even though you just want to turn back the seconds so that you could be kissing John again.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end…. And all bad things must be faced.

 

* * *

John.

Sweet, wonderful, beautiful.

When you open your eyes, you find him in front of you looking ……looking….

 

Sad, hurt, broken.

 

It’s written all over his face and it causes something to twist painfully inside of you when you see him looking like that. He looks like he’s about to start crying.

Why…. does he look like that?

 

* * *

“Sorry,” John whispers immediately. No hesitation. No waiting. Just John speaking before you could speak. He leans back more and shakes his head in a way that you hate. There’s no swish in his hair. Only dead ends meeting dead looking eyes.

 

“I’m sorry I invaded your space like that Rox,” he says, still whispering, “I-I’m just…. I’m sorry.”

 

* * *

 

You’re starring stupidly at him, unmoving, trying to comprehend what the fucking hell just happened. You didn’t do that. John did that. You didn’t even mean to do that. God what the-how the-?

You don’t think you’re forming words and John seems to understand. He always understands.

 

* * *

“Don’t think too much about that Rox,” he says, getting up. He’s not meeting your eyes the one time in your life that you really, _really_ want him to purposefully look at you. Blues replaced by black hair that you _hate, hate, hate_ in this moment.

John let’s out a nervous chuckle. It’s a ridiculous laugh that is so unlike the full-bellied snort that you know him for. You _hate_ it more than you’ve ever hated in your entire life.

He starts moving towards the front door and your hand goes up to grab his but he swerves away from it. A choked cry of distress emerges out of your throat and John merely glances at you before saying,

 

“That kiss was just something that I…. told myself I would do if I ever got the chance.”

 

There are definitely tears in his eyes. You made him cry. You made the sweetest boy in the entire universe cry and _gosh damn darn it you’ve never hated yourself more._

He chuckles again.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says.

 

Then he leaves.

 

* * *

Your name is Roxy Lalonde and you just kissed John Egbert. The guy who you always told yourself was off-limits. The guy who is the biggest “no-no” in your entire _Book of Life._

 

And it turns out, you are John’s biggest “off-limits-no-no” too.

 

You are so fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> Tadah! Sad ending! So sorry about that! It will get better..... Probably. Also sorry if Roxy is over-aged. She knows it too. 
> 
> Didja catch all those me-me's I dropped? Stay tuned for more to the series including:
> 
> Karkat punching Dirk in the dick  
> Karkat and Dave finally getting together  
> The introduction of characters from the title's name  
> John not pranking for a long time thanks to his broken heart
> 
> AND MORE


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